Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Korea South and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Selector Dub Narcotic to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Niagra,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dawn Penn,
Dead Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Prince Buster,
Desert Stars,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Sonics,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Au Pairs,
The Leaves,
Godley & Creme,
Mantronix,
Gang Gang Dance,
Television Personalities,
Harpers Bizarre,
Arab on Radar,
The Kinks,
Anthony Braxton,
Nik Kershaw,
Shoche,
The Wake,
Sam Rivers,
Connie Case,
Rosa Yemen,
T. Rex,
Dorothy Ashby,
Easy Going,
Rod Modell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Soft Cell,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Invisible,
Roxette,
B.T. Express,
Excepter,
Ituana,
Terry Callier,
Black Pus,
Archie Shepp,
DNA,
Das Ding,
Technova,
The Knickerbockers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Thompson Twins,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pussy Galore,
Electric Prunes,
Robert Görl,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ludus,
Juan Atkins,
The Angels of Light,
David Axelrod,
the Swans,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.